To most people in Ashland, Rannie Cooper was the man behind the legendary Bluegrass Grill, the hometown restaurant where great food and great memories were served side by side.

But to generations of boys growing up in Ashland, he was simply Coach Cooper.

He spent years coaching Little League baseball and elementary basketball, pouring his heart into young athletes. He taught them fundamentals, expected them to compete, and celebrated their victories with Bluegrass milkshakes. For a lot of kids, those milkshakes tasted even sweeter after a win.

He was also one of the Ashland Tomcats’ biggest supporters. Rannie often made sure players had meal tickets after big games—maybe before that was officially allowed. His son, Randy, was a dynamic receiver for the Tomcats, and few things made Rannie prouder than seeing him cross the goal line at Putnam Stadium.

The relationships didn’t end when the seasons did. Rannie stayed connected with many of the boys he coached as they grew into high school athletes and adults. They remembered not only what he taught them about sports, but how he treated them.

Scott Walter, who played for Cooper’s Tigers in Ashland American Little League, summed him up perfectly in a Facebook tribute Saturday.

“He loved to win as much as anyone, and he certainly helped prepare us to compete by instructing us and teaching us the fundamentals of the game,” Walter wrote.

Rannie passed away Friday morning. With his passing, Ashland lost not only a legendary businessman but also a mentor whose influence reached far beyond a ball field.

As a businessman, Rannie did something remarkable. He didn’t just survive the fast-food explosion of the 1960s and 1970s — he thrived through it.

The Bluegrass Grill remained the place to eat in Ashland. At lunchtime, regulars packed the booths. After dark, teenagers filled the parking lot. Countless first dates began there. More than a few marriage proposals happened there. It was one of those rare places where good food became part of life’s biggest moments.

When Rannie closed the restaurant in 2006, it wasn’t because business had slowed. Quite the opposite.

After nearly 50 years of working 12- to 14-hour days, the 65-year-old was simply ready to retire. Customers were still lining up for Flying Saucers, Twinburgers, chili, spaghetti, onion rings, fresh pies and all the other favorites that made the Bluegrass famous throughout the Tri-State.

For many of us, the Bluegrass was also the headquarters of cruising culture. We’d circle through the restaurant, head down Winchester Avenue, then turn around and do it all over again. Long before social media, that’s where you saw your friends on a Friday or Saturday night.

Rannie had earned every bit of that success.

He started at the Bluegrass in 1956 as a 15-year-old carhop. After graduating from Ashland High School in 1959, he went to work there full time. In 1971, he purchased the restaurant from Michael Riggal, grandson of founders Arch and Frances Riggal, who opened the Bluegrass in 1946.

Along with the business came its treasured recipes. Rannie often said he promised the Riggal family those recipes would remain with him until his death. His son, Randy, and daughter, Annette Ryan, who both worked in the restaurant for years, never made that same promise.

Even today, it’s common to see people on social media reminiscing about the Bluegrass and wishing they could have one more meal there. Everyone had a favorite.

Mine was a Twinburger with onion rings and a slice of strawberry pie.

My connection to the Bluegrass started before I was born. My father worked there as a carhop in the late 1940s and often brought home a box of hot dogs for him and my mother to enjoy after work. Maybe that’s why the Bluegrass always felt like home to me.

I came to know Rannie well during my years at the newspaper. He was always straightforward, deeply rooted in his faith, and never shy about sharing an opinion —especially when it came to the Ashland Tomcats. It didn’t matter whether it was football, basketball or baseball. He cared about those teams because he cared about the young people wearing the uniforms.

Ashland has been blessed through the years with men who invested their time in coaching boys. Rannie Cooper was one of the very best.

The Bluegrass Grill remains one of those places that lives on in conversations, family stories and hometown nostalgia.

And Coach Cooper lives on in the countless boys who became better athletes — and better men — because he took the time to coach them.

My deepest condolences go to the Cooper family, especially to Charlene, his wife of 67 years.